Whispers Of The Night
by shawn-n-belle
Summary: She is like a supernova, an explosion of beauty, of perfection. She's everywhere and nowhere at the same time. And then she is gone, leaving you breathless. She's a work of wonder, a masterpiece and you would give anything to be her artist.


Whispers of the Night

**Summary**: She is like a supernova, an explosion of beauty, of perfection. She's everywhere and nowhere at the same time. And then she is gone, leaving you breathless. She's a work of wonder, a masterpiece and you would give anything to be her artist.

**Paring**: Jade West/Tori Vega

**Disclaimer**: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Author's note:** I've never written before this fandom before and was recently introduced to it and fell in love. I hope that this fic can suffice with the rest of the amazing fics out there! (:

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The haunting feelings begin to sit in during the wee hours of the morning, even though you know that you should be fast asleep by now. And normally, you would be but tonight is different, tonight your mind does not want to shut off, it doesn't want to stop, it does not want to stop racing back to _that_ night, to her face, to her eyes, to _everything_ about her and _everything_ about the two of you together.

You are lying in your bed, the covers wrinkled around your waist and you remember the way that she used to sleep snuggled up to you in those covers, wrapped up in warm cocoon. You remember when you joked that she would not turn into a beautiful butterfly and she giggled beside of you, the kind of giggle that made it really hard for you to breathe, the kind of giggle that makes your stomach flip and your heart race and made your palms all sweaty. But she always had that stupid sickening straight-out-of-the-movies type of effect on you.

She changed you forevermore. But you would never admit that. In fact, you would much rather take a shot of poison straight into your veins, gouge your eyes out with a paper clip, and swallow acid than to admit that to admit that Tori Vega changed you. But she did, and certainly for the better. Before she came along you were bitter and cold, and for the most part you still are, but now you believe in stupid things, pointless things, like love, and destiny and fate. Because what other reason would describe why Tori Vega walked into your life and refused to walk back out?

You shift in your far too large bed, glancing out your window. She told you once of how she missed seeing the stars and you can't help but wonder what it would be like to see them every night, to spell out your name in those glistening ever-lasting glows of yellow.

Tori had been beautiful like the stars.

Untouchable, but still so desirable.

Tori had been your star, the one who always led you home, who led you to your _heart_.

The heart that, even though shielded, somehow always managed to beat a little faster when she smiled at you.

You can feel the tears prickling in your eyes and that hard lump scratching in the back of your throat. Sighing, you bury your face into the pillow that still smells like her. Your nostrils inhale her scent deeply, the comforting fragrance dancing across every part of you. You always told her that she smelled like an over fluffy cartoon character but now, it is only that scent that comforts you these days.

You never thought you would end up like this. Hell, no one did. You are Jade West, the HBIC that everyone seems to hate. Everyone that is, except for Tori. After your father's absence in your life, you swore that you would never trust anyone, that you would _never_ let anyone in, _ever_. And you had done a damn good job at that, even Beck never got all the way in. But Tori _had_. She saw you at the worst, held you while you cried, and made it _better_. Tori made you _better_.

Your stomach feels sick but you shake your head softly with a sniffle.

No, _you_ are sick.

And this thing is terminal.

You grab the bottle on the night stand beside of you with a grunt. She wouldn't approve of you drinking but when the fuck did Tori ever approve of you doing anything? You swallow the alcohol with a gulp, feeling the substance siege and burn your esophagus but you don't cringe. Because you're physically numb to all the pain, all the pain except for the kind that is radiating in your better-off-dead heart.

An ambulance is racing by outside, sirens blaring and you quickly jump to your feet, racing to your window to peer out. Hearing sirens in the middle of the night is not something unusual when you live in California, but you still want to see. You still want to _make sure_. Logically, your new obsession with sirens and ambulances makes no sense. But in your heart, you know it does. You watch as the white vehicle screams past, painting the town with the colors of its siren and your heart drops in your chest. Someone out there tonight is probably feeling the same thing you are.

Sighing, you lean against your window seat, glancing down at her shirt that still lays perfectly folded there. She was always doing things like that, organizing your place, making it a perfect mixture of her things and yours. When you first saw her doing that, you snorted and told her to not be a housewife because you had people for that. But secretly, you thought it was cute.

Now, you wish it hadn't been such a secret. You wish that _you_ had not been such a secret.

Reaching down, you pick up the small shirt in your hands and you feel the trickle of a tear sliding down your cheek. _Damn it,_ you huff, Jade West does _not_ cry but lately, that is all you seem to do. Absently, you brush your thumb over the collar of the shirt before you lift it to your face, snuggling close to the fabric. It still smells like her.

How is it possible that something like this could happen? That someone could have such a profound effect on you? You, of all people! You were closed off to the world for a _reason_, for _this_ reason. Because all people do is hurt you. But Tori … Tori had never meant to hurt you. Not ever. Tori had been the one who made you feel _different_, who made you feel like you _mattered_. She made you feel _alive_.

With a heavy sigh, you reach in your pocket and you pull out your phone. You are instantly greeted with a photo of the two of you; she is smiling that one smile that literally makes you think her face is going to split in half. And you're looking at her, the way that she always told you she hated being looked at, the way that you couldn't help but _look_ at her. Her fingers are laced in yours, a perfect fit, you recall, with a painful ache. You quickly scroll through your menu bar to find your messages and click the last one from her.

_I love you most. (: - T._

You choke on the cry that hangs in the back of your throat as the tears film over your dark eyes. You hadn't even been aware that you were this close to breaking down until you already are. That was the last text she sent you, the text she sent moments before… moments…

You bite your bottom lip to suppress the urge of bawling as you dial that all too familiar number knowing that she won't be picking up the phone. It rings once, twice, you sniffle, before the warmest voice fills your ear.

"_Hey, you've reached Tori Vega…. Stop Jade…. Jade… Jade I'm on the… umph… people are going to hear us… I'm unable to come to the phone right now so leave...I'll get… I'll get back to you later…. I love you, Jade."_

At the sound of her voice, you all but crumble into a mess on the floor, holding onto her shirt for dear life. Things in life does not make sense, like the fact that your father is such an asshole, or the reason that someone like Tori Vega found her way into your life, or how she fell in love with you and you with her, and the fact that your love for her was far too big for the world to let it live.

People don't understand your obsession with ambulances but she would have. Because if one had gotten to her sooner, maybe they could have… you choke on your cry, maybe they could have _saved_ her like she saved you. And maybe she could still _be here_. Maybe if that fucking drunk driver had not ran _that_ red light, maybe if she had not been on her way to get you some ice cream, maybe if she had not _met_ you then she would still be here. The overly dorky psychiatrist your mother is making you go to advised you to not think of the what ifs because they would drive you crazy.

But you see, you chuckle sickeningly as the tears stream down your face, you're already crazy. Because Tori Vega was the only one who made sense of your insane world. The only one who made you _okay_.

You stare at her picture on your phone, the sobs shaking through your body now.

She is like a supernova, an explosion of beauty, of perfection. She's everywhere and nowhere at the same time. And then she is gone, leaving you breathless. She's a work of wonder, a masterpiece and you would give anything to be her artist.

But she is gone now, forever. And the only thing you are left with is the tattoo she left on your heart, and this shirt. You can't hold her anymore, or make those ass-tastic comments to her just for her to roll her eyes and smile at you. You can't tell her how much you _love_ her, how much you _need_ her. And you should have told her. Fuck, you should have _told_ her exactly how much she means to you.

But you didn't.

Curling in a ball, you place the shirt closer to your face as you cry into it heavily. She is gone now, away from you, away from all of this and she is never coming back.

She has broken you. Perhaps not on purpose, but she _did_. And your heart will never love another, not the way that you loved Tori.

It has been months since the accident, months since you got _that_ phone call but you can still recall every memory, every _detail_ of that night. It haunts you, it is the reason that you never sleep anymore. At first, you saw her in your dreams as if the accident never happened, but then, you saw her _after_ the accident. Bleeding, hurt, _dead_. You saw her as a ghost of the woman you loved.

People say it will get easier with time, that you will move on, that one day you will wake up and it will hurt less. But you know that it is not true. Because you _died_ that night too and you will _never_ be the same, you will never _get over_ Tori Vega. Not in a thousand years.

Clinging to her shirt, you replay her voicemail to hear her voice again, allowing yourself to drift off to the cheery sound of happiness, of love, of _Tori_. She was everything you never knew you wanted and you did not deserve her, you know that.

She came in and out of your life in a brilliant flash, painting your world a pallet of bright colors, splashing in the normally gray areas. She came into your life with a bright smile and a warm heart, and brought you back to _life_.

She saved you.

You wish you could have done the same.

"_I love you, Jade_."

Now she is just a whisper in the night, you sniffle as your eyes begin to drift closed, but you will hang onto those words, onto her voice, just one more night.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Maybe you will see her in your dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, she will rescue you tonight in her warm embrace. Just like she always does.


End file.
